Simplicity
by SerialChick
Summary: *One-shot* Sometimes the greatest plans are surprisingly simple.


**Title:** Simplicity  
><strong>Author:<strong> serialchick  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Season 2  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> None  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> White Collar and all characters associated with it are the property of Jeff Eastin and the usanetwork.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sometimes the greatest plans are surprisingly simple.

"Then we steal a garbage truck –"

"And get caught by Peter." Neal finished.

Mozzie was almost ready to scream in frustration. Every plan, every escape route always came down to the same flaw. Peter Burke.

The money to fund the escape had been raised, the treasure was packed and the upcoming undercover op made the anklet a non-issue. The only problem still standing between them and freedom was an FBI agent with the uncanny ability to track Neal Caffrey anywhere in the world.

The two of them sat at Neal's table and wracked their brains for a solution as they finished off a bottle of wine. They'd already considered and discarded more escape plans in one night then some criminals could come up with in their entire careers. Neal had vetoed any course of action that involved getting rid of Peter permanently, even though that was the best solution for any future problems the agent might cause.

Suddenly, Neal sat up and placed his glass on the table, a look of surprised consideration on his face. Mozzie smiled hesitantly and said, "I know that look." He leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "You have something."

Neal answered slowly, "The main problem is that the moment I run, Peter Burke and the FBI will come looking for us, making it hard to get out of the country and impossible to come back later."

"Right," Mozzie prompted.

"So the answer is," Neal paused for dramatic effect, "I don't run."

Mozzie looked at him, confused for a moment, and then asked, "Explain."

"The problem is _I_ can't run. But you could leave at any time and it could take weeks, even months for Peter to notice, and when he did there would be nothing he could do because it's perfectly legal for an American citizen to leave the country."

Mozz stared at Neal in complete surprise.

"I have less then 2 years on my sentence." Neal continued, excitedly, "You leave with the treasure now, sell a few of the smaller pieces overseas, split the rest up and hide it. Then, when my time is up I can meet you on that beach in the Caribbean and we can live the rest of our lives just the way we want."

Mozz just stared at him, speechless.

"And six years from now, when the statue of limitations has run out, we can return to New York with our ill gotten gains and there's nothing the government can do about it." Neal finished, smiling widely.

It was so simple.

All the plans before this had been works of art, each more complex then the last, involving unlikely props and calling on numerous favours, but this was so obvious he couldn't believe it had taken them this long to think of it.

"Do you trust me to do that?" Mozzie asked. "I could just take the treasure and disappear."

"Don't be ridiculous." Neal replied. "If you were going to do that you could have just not told me you took it in the first place."

Mozzie blinked before he conceded the point.

"This way we don't have to say goodbye, we don't have to spend the rest of our lives running from the police and Peter won't loose his job." Neal sighed, happy that his solution would solve all the major drawbacks to the other plans.

"But will you be able to survive two more years?" Mozzie asked.

"If it were my choice, yes." Neal answered. "Plus the knowledge of a foolproof retirement plan certainly helps." He smiled.

"I'll still send you your share from any sales I make." Mozzie told him.

"That's fine by me." Neal reassured him, laughing. "Unless Peter can prove I got it illegally, he can't do anything about it."

Mozzie smiled and lifted his glass in a toast.

"To simplicity." He agreed.

"To simplicity." Neal answered before he drained his glass.


End file.
